Jon Jon is shockingly already 8 months old now. Which is still clearly, very young. But I feel like I need to start his memoirs now, before I start to forget too much. I haven't kept a baby book. I haven't made a scrap book. I don't even have a photo album put together yet. If it wasn't for Facebook, I would probably never get around to getting his pictures off my camera! I didn't write down the day of his first smile, or his first laugh. Or the time he first rolled over. I am a bad momma. But I remember all the events, and I was there for them - so that must count for something. Right? The first weeks are a little fuzzy. It was surreal, to say the least. Going throug childbirth - however they end up getting out - is a crazy experience. And then the day they send you home, you kind of feel like, is there going to be a test? They really trust us to take this living being home with us? What if we screw up? I was a nervous wreck driving home, and of course had to sit in the backseat with Jon Jon. I kept watching that thingy on the side of the carseat that shows if it is level - if you see the orange line, that's bad. Well I made Jon stop twice and check the carseat because I kept seeing the orange line roll in and out of view. Then I finally realized it was doing this every time we went up or down a hill and this was completely normal. And I'm pretty sure I only breathed as I saw Jon Jon's chest rise and fall, which thankfully he did the whole way home.
The day we took Jon Jon home, was also the day that President Obama was inaugurated. So while most everyone else in America was watching the proceedings on television, and marveling over what an amazing step this was in US history, we were marveling over our own amazing step into parenthood. It was certainly a day of change, that I will never forget.
Being cooped up in the house with a newborn in January was pretty much as everyone said it would be. We didn't get much sleep. Taking a shower moved very low on the priority list. We didn't really leave the house - hell, we barely left the bedroom. But in the middle of winter, what else is there really to do? So as a family, we hunkered down inside, in the warmth and enjoyed the cozy feeling you get when there is 2 feet of snow outside, and you know you don't have to step foot in it. We listened to a lot of Jack Johnson, Jon Mayer, and anything else that came over Pandora.com, nice and mellow and easy. There were tears of joy and tears of frustration and tears of exhaustion. But we made it through to Spring, and now I look back on those first weeks and wish I could go back, just for a day or 2. I miss my little newborn already. He doesn't have that newborn smell anymore. And I worked so hard to help him to happily sleep in his crib, that now he won't fall asleep in my arms anymore.
He feels so independent - you know, for a baby that still needs you for everything. He only wants to feed himself. He gets mad if I try and spoon fed him purees. "I'm so past that mom!" He can sit and happily amuse himself with his toys for a good stretch of time. He loves to just play in his crib. I swear sometimes he pretends to be tired just so he can go in there and have some alone time. And when he is in his walker - you can watch him making decisions. Like how to get from the living room to the kitchen. And making a 180 turn if he gets cornered.
What happened to my little blob?? He is not even one yet, and I am already missing "baby" Jon Jon. I guess this is when women start saying they are ready for another. (Not us, don't worry.) He has come so far in only 8 months. He now has those belly laughs, that make you belly laugh, that make him belly laugh, and so on, and so on. He smiles with recognition as he sees Daddy pull up the driveway coming home from work. And he is starting to show those toddler tendencies where he doesn't want to sit still in your lap at all, he constantly wants to be on the move. They grow up so fast. It's a cliche, but it's dead on.
But I am excited for all those great things to come in the next few months. The first time he crawls, or walks, or says Momma or Dada. Today we had a first that really broke my heart: he cried tears for the first time. It was so cute and sweet, I almost wanted to grab my camera. But as with many other milestones it went undocumented, other than in my memory (well, and now in this blog). And that's ok. I feel like these days people are so obsessed with getting
everything in their life on camera, in video, and on paper that perhaps they are not fully living it. They are so busy getting it documented that they miss being in the moment.
8 Months has certainly gone by fast, and it has been a bigger adjustment than I ever though possible. And how crazy that I can hardly remember a life before Jon Jon. It's like the world didn't start spinning until he came along. And what a great ride it has been.
Posts
